I was travelling down this path looking for God in every place I could think to search, starting with the Bible and books written on the Word of God and then of course in the people who follow him and the people who don’t and somewhere along the messy path of papers tossed, folded highlighted and carpeting the bed and floors I realized that I had entered the world of ministry without even meaning to.
I was ministering to people through my blog, through my words because others could relate to the broken truth that I have experienced in my life and somehow that made us soul sisters in more ways than simply having Christ in common. I realized that church can be right here on my computer screen, in a Facebook group and on Twitter on Thursday nights, it can be prayers in a holding embrace in the grocery store shared among friends, it is dropping my son off at Youth group and keeping my eyes on the road as he points out the stars in the sky and explains to me which are burnt out.
God became my everything and I realized He is everywhere, in everything and I was sharing the joy I had found, because surely if He is faithful to lowly me, then He will be faithful to everyone else who seeks Him too!
I realized though, that ministry isn’t all smiles, it carries a lot of burden, pain and tears. My prayer list is a mile long and everyday someone else gets added, something else needs my energy, my focus, my bringing it to God. People don’t always ask for prayer
–actually, most don’t,
but they still need to be prayed for.
Without any formal training I have been blessed to minister to new and old friends. I have cried tears when cancer came back and stole a mama away from her kids, I have lost sleep praying with tears running down my cheeks -for the family who just lost their child, I have wept and rejoiced over successful organ transplants and offered comfort when they weren’t. I have given my honest opinion when asked. I have lost more friends than I can count and I have suffered silently while standing strong.
I have listened to stories told by elderly widowers speaking of their wives and how they met, got married and raised each other and then I have watched those same people wither away into dementia and heart failure and eventual physical death.
I have stood vigil over the dying and held their cold hands and prayed. I have made coffee and snacks in makeshift kitchens set up in hospital rooms for family who refused to leave. I have slept in chairs, I have lost sleep and made myself physically ill just so I could help someone to know they are spiritually well.
Yet, somehow in ALL of this ugliness there is a light and that light is Christ and I trust that He is guiding me just right, like the lighthouse protecting ships from jagged rocks in rocky seas, God is there always, perfectly, for both you and me.
I fell into ministry for a reason and I have no clue where it will take me or when, but I trust that God already knows and that He will use me in the ways I need to be used and I will gladly serve Him diligently. Ministry isn’t a 9-5, and for me it doesn’t even pay in dollars, but knowing that I have helped soul-holes be filled in and have been the one appointed to be leaned on is a task I do not take lightly. He is my strength, my refuge. Because of seeds planted in me years ago, He has grown around me, roots strong and protecting my soul.